


the right partner

by sokovianaccords (eurogirl)



Series: i've been prompted [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted to Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:47:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurogirl/pseuds/sokovianaccords
Summary: A series of prompted drabbles and ficlets featuring Steve and Peggy





	1. "I have a secret"

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “I have a secret.”
> 
> Sent by: dreaminglikeeames
> 
> Originally posted: August 29th, 2016

“I have a secret.”

“Really?” Steve laughed–honest-to-god giggled–into Peggy’s hair as they strolled down the street, Peggy concentrating very carefully on where she placed her feet. They were both dog-tired after a horrible week of missions and paperwork (and more missions and more paperwork), and they had intended to head straight home as soon as they had arrived. However, the Avengers had convinced them to stay and wind down together (with the help of the latest Asgardian brew that Thor had procured the last time he went home).

So, Steve and Peggy ambled home, punch-drunk tired and somewhere in between tipsy and drunk, tripping over each other’s feet and giggling at everything the other person said.

“Yes, really.”

“Well, what’s the secret?”

Peggy stopped abruptly, causing Steve to stumble. His arm was still wound tightly around her shoulders, so she tripped, and they crashed into a wall together with a loud  _smack_. Peggy bent at the waist, peals of laughter shaking her whole frame until she almost fell over again. Steve banged his head into the brick and bounced away, cursing under his breath, only to almost trip over his fiancee, who was barely upright.

They froze for a moment, staring at each other with wide eyes, before bursting into giggles all over again. They continued home, speaking softly to one another, heads tucked closely together.

It was only when they reached the front stoop of their apartment building that Steve remembered their previous conversation.

“Wait, Peggy, what was your secret?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, standing up straight (and nearly hitting her head on the door frame). “Well, I can’t tell you, Steve, otherwise it wouldn’t be a secret.” Her eyes were bright, dancing with mischief, there was color high on her cheeks, and her hair was a total mess. Steve had never been so in love.

“C’mon,” he wheedled, poking her in the side. “We’re gonna be married, and married people share secrets. It’s one of the rules.”

Peggy considered this for a moment before nodding decisively. She pushed herself onto her toes, wobbled a moment, and leaned on his shoulder as she whispered in his ear, “I love you.”

She stepped back, clearly proud of herself, but Steve’s mouth dropped open. Peggy cackled and dashed for the stairs, Steve hot on her heels, shouting, “That’s not a secret!”


	2. IMPORTANT QUESTION: why wasn't Steve's compass in Civil War?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: IMPORTANT QUESTION - why wasn't Steve's compass in Civil War?
> 
> Sent by: me (based on an old post)
> 
> Originally posted: August 22nd, 2016

  * Steve receives the text and rushes to the stairwell, trying to make it before the tears start falling. He sinks to the ground, and he fumbles for the compass in his pocket where it always rests, his constant companion. He pops open the clasp, an action driven entirely by muscle memory because his eyes are too full of tears to see anything clearly, including Peggy’s picture. Her face is blurry as he stares at his true north, and he feels the whole world tilt on its axis because that true north is gone forever.
  * It burns a hole in his pocket as he carries the casket, the heaviest burden he has ever shouldered. He feels weak and sickly, like he did in the depths of winter before the serum made him impervious to those things. He can feel the compass rubbing against his leg with every step, a constant reminder that the love of his life now only lives in his memory, encompassed in a small, round relic that kept him company during seventy years of isolation. It will keep him company for a little longer.
  * He rubs his thumb along the side of the compass through the whole service, a small point of connection, a nervous habit that he hasn’t managed to shake. The metal is cold, so cold, like it has just been pulled out of the ice, and Steve feels the cold in his bones more profoundly than ever before. He’s suddenly struck by the  _wrongness_ of it all. He should be holding Peggy’s hand, leaning in to hear her snide comment or dry laugh, rather than clenching the old compass tightly in his fist, a shadow barely compensating for the real thing.
  * He drives the VW Bug one-handed, even though he can feel Sam and Bucky side-eyeing the steering wheel nervously. The compass is clenched tightly in the other hand, questions and doubts swirling around in his head until he can’t hear anything other than the beating of his own heart and Sharon’s words (Peggy’s words) from the funeral. Peggy had always been his touchstone, his rock, and as the world seems to be falling to pieces around him (not for the first time), he  _wishes_  with all his heart that Peggy was there, to affirm his action or to shoot at him for being stupid again.
  * During the fight, he almost forgets that the compass is with him, but after it’s over, as Steve and Bucky are rushing toward Siberia, he pulls it out again. He feels her absence keenly as he flies a plane in order to save his best friend once again. It just doesn’t seem right not to have her there. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Bucky eyeing the compass curiously, like there’s a memory just out of reach. 
  * “Peggy,” he says, answering Bucky’s unspoken question. “She was with the SSR, worked with the Commandos a lot during the war.” Bucky snorts. “She was a lot more than that, Steve.” He shakes his head. “I may not remember a lot, but I remember you going moon-eyed over her at every encounter.”
  * “Yeah,” Steve sighs, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the compass, the edge now shiny from constant wear, “she was the right partner.”
  * After he drops the shield, after the fight is over, after Bucky chooses to go back into cryostasis, he hides in a forgotten corner of T’challa’s palace. He pulls out the compass, his constant companion, and rests it against his forehead, the cool metal a perfect antidote to the feverish rush of thoughts and excuses he couldn’t escape, no matter how fast he runs. “I don’t know where I’m going next, Peg. I just…I don’t know.” He sighs and goes quiet, straining for even a hint of her voice on the breeze that rushed through the corridor. It is silent.
  * Steve hangs his head, the compass hanging loosely from one hand. 
  * “I miss you.”



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr at thesokovianaccords, if you're into that sort of thing.


	3. "here have a drink you’ll feel better" / "I can’t I’m pregnant"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "here have a drink you’ll feel better" / "I can’t I’m pregnant"
> 
> Sent by: reader1007
> 
> Originally posted: November 2nd, 2016

“Here, have a drink. You’ll feel better.” Steve’s voice was low, matching the dim lights of their apartment. He held a glass of Peggy’s favorite wine in one hand and his shield in the other. The last time he had seen that look on her face, the shield had been the only thing protecting him from certain death…probably. He could even see the glint of a gun on the coffee table, which, while not an  _unusual_ occurrence, was enough to give him pause.

Peggy sighed, running her fingers through her hair, disturbing already-disheveled curls. She opened her mouth, and then shut it quickly, rubbing a hand over her face in distress. That was the sixth time she had started to speak only to keep quiet, and Steve found it extremely unsettling. He had seen Peggy in many different states over the years they had known each other, but he had never seen her quite like this before–she certainly never had trouble sharing her thoughts with him before. Hence the wine and the shield–Steve didn’t know where he currently stood, but he figured that one of the two would help him try to discern what was wrong.

Peggy glanced briefly at the glass of wine and let out a mournful sigh. Steve’s shoulders dropped slightly in relief–she wouldn’t be shooting at him for an as-yet-unknown offense–and he moved quickly to her side, settling himself carefully on the couch, the shield resting next to the arm of the sofa. He handed Peggy the glass, which she took gingerly, two fingertips barely holding onto the stem. She swirled the wine gently three times, then placed it on the coffee table next to the gun.

“I can’t,” Peggy replied, placing her hand on Steve’s thigh. She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Steve stared intensely at her hand–bright red nails against blue denim–as the words swirled around in his head, comprehension still out of reach. Peggy squeezed his thigh gently, which pulled him out of his stupor. His head popped up, making her jump. “You’re pregnant?” he all but shouted, the words tripping over the huge grin taking over his face. 

Peggy tilted her head forward in an approximation of a nod, and Steve tackled her to the sofa, pressing kisses all over her face. She started giggling in spite of herself at the rasp of his stubble against her cheeks, but as Steve pulled away slightly, eyes brimming with joy, she sobered again.

Perceptive as always, Steve sat up and pulled Peggy into his lap, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. “You’re not excited. Is this happy news?”

Peggy rubbed the space between Steve’s eyebrows, where his skin creased with worry. “It is definitely happy news, darling. I was absolutely ecstatic when I found out.”

“Then why are you so worked up? And what’s with the gun?”

‘I was overthinking things, I suppose. I was so excited about a new baby, and then I started thinking about what it would mean to raise a child, and how difficult it would be to keep that child safe, especially since Lord knows we both have our fair share of enemies.” Peggy tilted her head with a wry grin. “Besides, any child of ours will have a reckless streak that will make both of us look like wilting flowers in comparison.”

Steve sighed, the truth of Peggy’s worries a heavy weight on his shoulders. He placed his hand on his shield, the cold metal a comfort as he thought about the dangers awaiting their new family. He gave himself a mental shake–this was a time for celebration, the worries could be dealt with later. He clasped Peggy’s hands in his own and pulled her off-balance, so that she was fully pressed up against him. Peggy’s breath caught at the unexpected motion, and Steve grinned. “Listen, Peg, we have plenty of time to have this conversation. And we will have it, I promise. Between your skills and my shield, we’ll have the safest baby in the whole world. But right now–God, Peggy, we’re gonna be parents!”

Peggy returned the grin, his enthusiasm infectious. “You better be this excited when I’m nauseous and craving pickles at 3 am and breaking your hand when a contraction hits.”

Steve laughed and kissed her knuckles. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr at thesokovianaccords, if you like that kind of thing


	4. "Come over here and make me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Come over here and make me"
> 
> Sent by: beautifulwhensarcastic
> 
> Originally posted: January 27th, 2017

“Come over here and make me.”

Peggy’s head popped over the back of the couch, dark curls mussed and cheeks flushed. She glowered at Steve, who stood in their kitchen, glass of water in one hand and two bright orange tablets in the other. He was grinning, which only deepened Peggy’s scowl.

“I will come over there and make you,” Peggy growled, her vision slightly blurred by the fever, her glare a little less intimidating to Steve than usual. Her ire was further undermined when she tried to push herself up, but she collapsed back into the couch cushions with a groan.

Steve meandered over to the couch, where Peggy fixed him with a nasty look. He placed a gentle hand on her forehead, and she leaned into his touch.

“I’m sorry I can’t suffer through this with you, but there’s no need to swear at me like that. Also I think at least two of the things you described are physically impossible.” 

“That’s what you think,” she retorted, swallowing the cold medicine with great disdain. “I’ll have you know that I am capable of a great many things others would describe as impossible.”

“I never doubted that,” Steve replied in a tone that would have made Peggy melt into him on any other day. He gently lifted her head and dropped onto the couch, placing her head back on top of his thigh. One hand threaded through her damp curls while the other used the remote to scroll through their Netflix queue. “Do you want to watch anything in particular?”

Peggy hummed appreciatively as he massaged her scalp, his warm fingers the perfect antidote to her persistent headache. When she didn’t answer, too busy relaxing into his touch, Steve chuckled. “Peggy?”

She heaved a sigh, as if any interruption was the height of inconvenience. “Something boring, so I can sleep. Like one of those Mission Impossible movies.”

Steve shook his head as he made the selection. “You know, most people find those movies exciting.”

Peggy snorted and then winced at the pressure on her sinuses. “ _We_ are not most people, darling. The IMF–which is a ridiculous name, by the way–is child’s play compared to SHIELD.”

“Oh, and SHIELD doesn’t have a ridiculous name?”

“Well, I had nothing to do with that.”

Steve burst out laughing, and Peggy made a plaintive noise as he jostled her, reigniting all of her aching joints. “Sorry, Peg, but I can’t believe–”

“Hush,” Peggy commanded, blindly patting his face until she found his mouth, which she covered with her palm until he quieted. “You’re distracting me. I’m trying to watch the film.”

“Oh, excuse me.”

They watched the screen for a little while before Peggy, words curling around a large yawn, said, “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, his free hand gently tracing Peggy’s spine. “Tell you what, if you feel better after your nap, you can kiss me as much as you want. See if those germs will stick.”

Her only reply was a gentle snore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr at thesokovianaccords :)


	5. Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: [based on this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mh4f9AYRCZY) // [peggy's analysis](https://www.theguardian.com/media/2017/mar/10/wikileaks-julian-assange-silicon-valley-response-cia-russia)
> 
> Originally posted: March 10, 2017

“The latest WikiLeaks release has sent a shockwave through the intelligence community, especially in the upper echelons of SHIELD, whose tools for hacking into smart devices were among the information obtained by the group. Joining us today to discuss the impact of this leak on the intelligence community is the former Director of SHIELD herself, Peggy Carter. Ms. Carter, thank you for coming on the show today.”

Peggy smiled slightly into the webcam and adjusted the lapel of her blazer, praying her home office looked tidier on camera than it actually was. “Thank you for your invitation.”

“What are your thoughts regarding the Vault 7 leaks?”

Peggy shrugged. “It’s nothing truly earth-shattering. A lot of the operating systems referenced in the files are obsolete and have since been updated, and the Weeping Angel hack has been presented at security conferences previously. Much of this information is just a confirmation of what was widely assumed–that is, intelligence agencies have the capability to hack into a person’s smart devices. It’s certainly not good for SHIELD to be compromised this way, but the comparison to Snowden’s NSA leaks are certainly inaccurate.”

“And what do you make of Assange’s statement that he will provide assistance to tech companies to patch the bugs mentioned in the Vault 7 files?” The newscaster let out a stifled chuckle. “Ma’am, I believe one of your children just walked in.”

As if on cue, Peggy felt a tug on her sleeve. She placed a hand on her elder daughter’s head and tried to regain her train of thought. “You’re certainly seeing caution from Silicon Valley. They are understandably suspicious of Assange’s motives, given–” 

There was a more insistent tug on Peggy’s sleeve, and she looked down to see her daughter Sarah grinning at her, holding a toy in each hand with her glasses slightly askew.

“Not now, darling. Mummy’s working.” Sarah opened her mouth, no doubt to deliver a the most devastating retort a three-year-old could conjure. “No, Sarah. Go find your father.”

Peggy turned back to the camera. “I’m terribly sorry. As I was saying, given that Wikileaks has a history of releasing individuals’ personal information and Assange’s apparent ties with Russia–”

There was a loud crash behind Peggy, and she turned her head to see Eleanor in her walker, bumping into her bookshelves and precariously stacked piles of paper. Steve slid into the room right after her, banging his shoulder on the office door. She looked heavenward as Steve hustled their girls out of the room, one hand clutching the back of Sarah’s jumper, the other practically lifting Eleanor’s walker off the floor.

“My apologies,” Peggy said with an embarrassed grin as Sarah jabbered at Steve in the background about how she got to play in Mum’s office all the time and he was being so unfair and she left her Bucky Bear behind. 

“Anyway, with Wikileaks’ reputation–” She was once again interrupted, this time by a loud shriek from Eleanor. Peggy managed to tamp down her wince, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve kneeling in the doorway. He reached for the door handle and missed, almost toppling to the floor. His second try was successful, and he closed the door just as Sarah started yelling to be heard over Eleanor’s babbling.

Peggy sighed and shook her head. “I’m so sorry. As I was saying–can you repeat your question please?”

\-----

Later that night, Peggy found herself scrolling through her Twitter mentions. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised that the video went viral, but it was still supremely unnerving to have more internet presence in a given day than her famous, superhero husband.

She reached a tweet that made her stop short. “Steve,” she gasped, “how did they guess that I was wearing pajama bottoms during the interview? I made sure not to move my chair at all!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at thesokovianaccords. Come say hi :)


End file.
